Authors Note:

 

READ AHEAD: Chapter 8 is now available for Tier 2 Manifest Fantasy Patrons and higher!

 

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/drdoritosmd  

 

Discord: https://discord.gg/wr2xexGJaD

  – –

Henry received his card, flipping it over. It felt smooth and cold, clearly made of some metal or new compound. It had his name, current tier, role, other identifying information, and an empty slot for a picture. It seemed rather out of place for what he imagined to be medieval fantasy, but like the case with the advanced plumbing, he welcomed the amenities.

After the distribution of ID cards, Taldren gave the team a nod. “I must attend to other pressing matters of the Guild. Mira Lenton here’ll assist you with the rest of your rewards and formalities,” he said, gesturing towards the clerk.

 

Mira explained, “These will be yer official Guild IDs. Keep ‘em close during yer quests; they prove yer part of the Guild and show yer Tier. They’ll also let ye pass through gates and roads without payin’ tolls.”

 

“And for yer outstanding performance in the Minotaur quest, the Guild has seen fit to award ye handsomely,” she announced, handing them a sealed envelope. As Henry broke the seal and unfolded the document inside, he was taken aback by the sum – 40,000 lumens credited to their Party account. The money constituted significant capital to kickstart their operations, a welcome head start.

 

“This coin will serve ye well in yer future endeavors, whether for gear, supplies, or gatherin’ information. They’ve been added to yer account, which you can access with the Guild IDs. And with the grand deed ye’ve done, the Guild’s also given ye access to special places and knowledge here. Ye’ll be able to use our best training grounds, get yer hands on quests not open to just anyone, and seek advice from those who know the lay of the land best.”

 

Ryan whistled softly. “Well, ain’t that somethin’?”

 

Isaac looked over the envelope’s contents. “More than just somethin’. I can see why so many locals wanna become adventurers.”

 

After handing out the rewards for the Minotaur quest, the clerk paused and sifted through her papers before looking up again. “There’s more, ye see,” she said with a hint of excitement. “For yer bold actions savin’ the Arcane Scholar from those fenwyrms out in the Grenden Plains, he’s made sure ye get full credit for that quest. And the way ye handled those bandits? The Eldralore Knight Order’s recognized that too – they’re givin’ ye credit for puttin’ an end to their menace!”

 

She handed over another set of envelopes to the team. “Inside these, ye’ll find our thanks in more than just coin. There be letters of high regard from the branch leaders of our Guild. They’ll mark ye out for special missions, a true mark of honor for ones such as yerselves.”

 

Henry analyzed their contents, containing his pride and amusement as he flipped through the papers. Like the first envelope, these also contained receipts of lumins being added to their guild account. However, these also contained the letters of commendation that Mira mentioned – tickets necessary in a society of nobles such as this – and slips that seemed to be vouchers. Henry looked up at the clerk. “Thank you for these,” he said with a nod. “Can you tell us more about these vouchers?”

 

“Those slips can be traded with our trusted vendors here or those who stand with us. They’ll fetch ye free or discounted gear and supplies of finer make, the sort not usually within reach of newcomers.”

 

Henry accepted the envelopes, the vouchers between his fingers feeling like keys to a treasure trove of possibilities. He knew their firearms were extremely potent in this world; an enchanted sword or bow seemed redundant for their kind of work, likely more valuable as research artifacts than practical tools.

 

“Great,” he said, pocketing the envelopes thoughtfully. While traditional weapons might not add much to their arsenal, the prospect of other magical items and potions piqued his interest. If the tales were true, these could offer advantages in scenarios where brute force wouldn’t suffice. The thought of utilizing magical aids, especially potent healing potions, felt like a smart strategic addition for their missions.

 

Mira gave them a smile. “It’s been a pleasure assisting ye. If there’s aught else ye need, ye know where to find us!”

 

“Thank you, Mira,” Henry replied. “We really appreciate it.”

 

They made their way out of the Guild, passing other adventurers in the hall. Stepping outside, they walked to the Guild’s parking lot, navigating through the stables and carriages until they reached their MRAP. The team loaded their gear and the envelopes into the vehicle, each member settling into their usual spots. 

 

“Mira’s lowkey kinda bad,” Ron muttered as he started the MRAP.

 

“Heh,” Henry smirked. “Thought you liked elves and catgirls?”

 

“What can I say,” Ron shrugged, grinning. “A baddie’s a baddie.”

 

As the MRAP rumbled along the pathway and ventured onto the main road, Henry’s attention turned to the city around them. Leaving the city limits, Henry stared out the window. In the rearview mirror, he could see Dr. Anderson flipping through the pages of the commendations they had received, engrossed in the cultural significance of the documents. Meanwhile, Ron, Isaac, and Ryan were engaged in a low-key debate about the best way to utilize the new resources and access they had been granted by the Guild.

 

It felt weird, considering how mundane his routine was just two weeks ago, but this was life now. While it hadn’t been the star-hopping adventure he used to dream about, it was something he wouldn’t give up for anything. As they approached the base, the familiar sight of its prefabs and the bustling activity of personnel brought a sense of reality back to the forefront. It was home sweet home – a small piece of America in the heart of Gaerra.

 

Base staff lended more eyes to their arrival, aware of Alpha Team’s reputation as the premier exploration team. Henry nodded in acknowledgement to the waves and salutes they received as they drove toward the portal. Emerging on the other side, they disembarked and walked to the situation room for debriefing.

 

The debriefing itself was straightforward. Henry led the report, outlining their encounters and the outcomes of their mission. After showing the Guild IDs to General Harding, he handed over the commendations and the vouchers they had received, explaining their potential use in future operations.

 

“Impressive work, Captain,” Harding began. “Your team’s adaptability is commendable. The way you’ve handled yourselves, not just in combat but in navigating the complexities of Sonaran society, is exactly what we need.”

 

Henry acknowledged the compliment. “Thank you, sir.”

 

Harding folded his hands on the table, his gaze fixed on the envelopes. “Regarding the rewards you’ve received, you’ll be able to use them at your discretion for mission-related expenses and acquiring necessary equipment. We’ll be assigning a handler to help manage and review your purchases. The non-essential physical items you’ve obtained, especially anything of research value, will be cataloged and stored here for analysis.”

Henry nodded. This arrangement left open the possibility of maintaining critical items like potions or other useful equipment that they might need. The protocols and doctrine were nothing like he was accustomed to; the rules were still being written.

 

“Now, about your next steps. Tomorrow, I want you to meet with Chief Warrant Officer Cole at the quartermaster’s. We’ll be continuing to bring in new equipment over the next few weeks, but he’s got some stuff you might want to check out. And then, I’d like you to speak with Dr. Lamarr and Dr. Perdue. They have some specific requests that align with our objectives on Gaerra.”

 

“Will do, sir,” Henry replied. “We’ll make sure to coordinate closely with them.”

 

General Harding stood up. “Good. Hopefully, I’ll have some new assignments for your team once the talks have been concluded. Dismissed.”

 

Henry exited the room and headed back to his quarters to wash up. The facilities at the Guild and the Clorox wipes in the MRAP had served as mere stopgaps. He could still smell the lingering odor of Minotaur on himself, and could only imagine how much worse it was for Ryan – and how much worse it would be when they have their first eventual taste of extended quests. He sighed as he entered the shower, relishing a simple luxury that he had long taken for granted. 

 

After cleaning up, he donned a plain shirt and headed to the mess hall. The prospect of dinner was both a welcome and a slightly dreaded routine; their stock of fenwyrm meat, an exotic delicacy from their first weeks on Gaerra, was running low. As he entered, the familiar sounds and smells of the base canteen greeted him. The place was bustling with personnel, all hoping to enjoy the last vestiges of the fenwrym meat. 

 

At a corner table, Ron and the rest of Alpha Team were already gathered, each with a plate of food. Ron waved him over. “Better hurry up, Cap! The fenywrm steak ain’t gonna last long!”

 

Henry grabbed a tray and joined his team, sliding into the seat with a soft clatter of his utensils. “Enjoying it while it lasts, I see,” he remarked, surveying the dishes. 

 

“Mmm, yup,” Ron said, his words muffled by a mouthful of food. He swallowed and grinned. “Y’know, we need to give Gordon Ramsay security clearance for this place. Or hire a Sonaran chef.” He speared another chunk of meat, savoring the taste. “Nothing beats the taste of victory.”

 

Isaac leaned back tapping his mouth with a napkin. “Or we could just send you to Gaerra with a cookbook. ‘Ron Owens: Interdimensional Chef’ has a nice ring to it.”

 

Henry chuckled, cutting into his steak. He took a bite, its rich, gamey flavor enhanced by a hint of umami and a velvety wine sauce, It was like a robust venison, but completely alien in its own right. “I’ll stick to my day job for now,” he replied. “Tomorrow’s meeting with Sergeant Cole and the docs might just turn out to be more than we bargained for.”

 

Ryan, taking a swig of his sweet tea, raised an eyebrow. “Reckon we’re gettin’ some new toys from the quartermaster?”

 

“Could be,” Isaac said thoughtfully. “With the Manifest Project in full swing now, they’ve probably got the green light for new assets and supplies.”

 

The meal continued with light-hearted banter. After finishing, they went their separate ways to unwind. 

 

Henry, feeling the need to stretch his legs, stepped out into the cool night air. The base was quieter now, the hustle of the day giving way to the calm of the evening. He wandered aimlessly for a bit, eventually finding himself near a hangar storing vehicles – MRAPs, UGVs, humvees, and even some Abrams – all awaiting transport to Armstrong. 

 

After a few more minutes on his walk, he headed back to his quarters. The main room had a subdued ambiance, each team member settling into their own evening routine. Ron was sprawled on the couch, scrolling on his phone and oblivious to the world. Isaac was propped up against his pillow, absorbed in a book about medieval history while Ryan sat on a desk, grinding for loot online. A strange way to unwind after a similar mission in real life, but to each his own, Henry supposed.

 

Dr. Anderson sat at his own desk, pen in hand and scribbling furiously in his notebook. He was likely cataloging the day’s events or drafting ideas for possible upcoming quests. The man had an insatiable curiosity that seemed to drive him relentlessly.

 

Henry found his bed and laid back, feeling the fatigue of the day seeping into his bones. He stared at the ceiling for a while, his mind a whirl of thoughts about the past and the future. He closed his eyes, beginning a prayer to the Lord. As he finished his prayers, the physical exhaustion took over, pulling him into a deep sleep.

 

——

 

Henry woke up to the muted sounds of the early morning on the base, the sunlight filtering in through his window. There was no blaring alarm to jar him awake, just the natural transition from sleep to consciousness, a rarity that he appreciated whenever it happened.

 

He lay there for a moment, rubbing his eyes and letting the stillness of the morning sink in. Around him, the facilities were quiet, the rest of Alpha Team still in the grip of sleep. Henry savored these rare moments of peace.

 

Finally rising, he swung his legs off the bed, slipping into some crocs as he dressed quickly in his standard base attire. As he stepped outside, the base was just beginning to stir. The sky was a blend of oranges and purples, dawn casting long shadows across the concrete and steel. He made his way to the mess hall, the aroma of coffee and breakfast guiding him.

 

The mess hall was sparsely populated at this early hour. Henry grabbed a cup of coffee and a light breakfast – french toast with a side of bacon and eggs. He scrolled through his phone, looking for something to watch while he enjoyed his meal. There: the anime that Ron recommended about the JSDF fighting fantasy enemies. Ron and Isaac were pretty adamant about watching Attack on Titan as his first anime instead, but this seemed a fitting first, given his line of work. Surprisingly, it was rather eye-catching, if not for how comparable it was to his own experiences after first stepping foot on Gaerra.

 

After breakfast, he headed to the outdoor training area for a brief morning workout. The physical activity helped him clear his mind, setting the tone for the day. As he finished his routine, the rest of Alpha Team began to emerge, each member following their own morning rituals.

 

Once the team was assembled, Henry briefed them on the day’s agenda. “We’ve got a meeting with Chief Warrant Officer Cole at the quartermaster’s first thing. Let’s see what new gear we have at our disposal. After that, we’re scheduled to meet with Dr. Lamarr and Dr. Perdue. They’ve got missions for us that tie into our objectives on Gaerra.”

 

Ron, sipping his coffee, nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Curious to see what we can scrounge up this time.”

 

As the team walked to the quartermaster’s, Henry noticed a bustle the magnitude of which was typically unseen for the early morning – trailers carrying new supplies and equipment, more dozers and construction vehicles, and scientists carefully transporting lab equipment. Armstrong Base was looking to be a permanent base – perhaps what might even be considered a colony.

 

“Morning, Alpha Team. I’m Warrant Officer Cole, resident Logistics and Technological Officer, and the guy who’ll be handling Gaerran expenses,” a lean young man greeted them as they stepped into the quartermaster’s. “Sorry ‘bout the mess, folks.”

Henry looked around. Indeed, it was quite a mess. He counted at least ten other people unloading new things and sorting them. “Quite the operation, huh?”

“No kidding,” Cole said. “The General’s been able to requisition a lot of new gear thanks to the success of the Project. We’re still figuring out what works best in Gaerra, but we’ve got a few things here that should help.”

 

Walking through the aisles of the quartermaster’s, Cole pointed out various pieces of equipment tailored for the diverse challenges Alpha Team might face. He first showed them the Enhanced Combat Helmets. “These new helmets should provide much more utility than the hand-me-downs y’all currently got. These fine specimens,” he said, smacking a helmet at the top, “can be used interchangeably with Envirosuit helmets and include the brand-new IVAS three-point-oh – improved voice command recognition, enhanced HUD with customizable data feeds, and improved accessibility with other systems for better situational awareness, like linking with drones.”

 

Ryan grinned as he picked one up. “Hell, it’s about time.”

 

Isaac put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t go and wet yourself over the fancy doo-dads, ‘Mister Findlay.’”

 

Cole’s next item caught the team’s attention immediately. “What we have here,” he said, holding up the lightweight mesh garment, “is a new type of protective overlay. It’s designed to be worn over your Envirosuits or standard field apparel.”

 

He explained the construction: “DARPA says they used ultra-high-molecular-weight polyethylene – UHMWPE – woven into a fine, flexible mesh. The material has layers of this stuff and titanium and is pretty damn strong for its weight. Should offer good protection against slashing attacks, something you might encounter often on your missions. It’s also more effective than standard Kevlar against stabs and piercing threats like arrows.”

 

Henry picked up the mesh, feeling its lightness and pliability. “Looks like chainmail, but without the weight,” he commented.

 

“Exactly,” Cole affirmed.

 

Ryan examined the mesh, putting it on and moving his body around. “Well, I’ll be,” he drawled, “feels lighter than a feather on a breeze. Movin’ in this ain’t no chore at all.”

 

“And quick to put on and take off as needed,” Cole added. “It’s also relatively low-profile, perfect for high-level meetings or Game of Thrones shenanigans.”

 

Henry nodded. “What about for heavier threats?”

 

“We can’t issue you tanks, but I can give you the next best thing. Here,” he said, gesturing to a compact, portable anti-tank weapon. “It’s a Carl Gustaf – a bit heavier than the AT4s y’all got, but it's reusable and versatile. As for aerial targets, we’ve got these bad boys,” he flourished his hand, introducing two launchers. “The FIM-92 Stinger, good all-around. It can reliably track and take down one of them Fenwyrm Lords, but in case y’all run into a frost wyrm or something, we’ve also got the Starstreak.”

 

“Laser guidance should cover all of our bases,” Ron said.

 

“How effective would these be against dragons?” Henry asked. “Assuming dragons are like flying tanks.”

 

“Stinger’s probably gonna be a peashooter,” Cole admitted, shaking his head. “Starstreak might do a bit more. The missile is twice as fast as a Stinger one, I think it can get up to Mach 4. Straight up, I think even a dragon would have a tough time shrugging off the pure kinetic energy from the Starstreak, but you’re probably better off booking it and calling for backup. Apaches and UGVs are currently available, and I hear we’ll be getting some heavier stuff in the next few weeks – Abrams tanks, Reapers, A-29s, and F-35Bs, plus some even better stuff in the coming months.”

 

Dr. Anderson shrugged, “Should be fine as long as we don’t run into anything higher than Tier 9.”

 

Cole pointed out a set of medical kits. “These are stocked with broad-spectrum antibiotics, antivenoms, anticoagulants, and first-aid supplies that aren’t found in your Advanced and Multiple First Aid Kits.”

 

Cole moved on to the next set of items. “Given the unpredictability of Gaerra, we’ve included some compact drones in your kit. These aren’t your average surveillance quadcopters. First up, the Switchblade 300 – quick, agile, and perfect for precision strikes against softer targets or individuals.”

 

Ryan eyed one of the sleek drones, which was positioned next to its launch tube. “Switchblade 300, eh?”

 

Cole nodded and then pointed to a larger drone. “And this is the Switchblade 600. Heavier payload, like having a flying tank buster at your disposal.”

 

Ryan’s eyes widened slightly as he examined the Switchblade 600. “Now that’s more like it. Heard tales ‘bout these babies. Reckon it’ll do us well against heftier targets. Ain’t no Minotaur is gonna shrug off one of these.”

 

Finally, Cole unveiled a more sophisticated drone. “And this is the XQ-28 Falconet. Extensively tested in controlled environments, and just awaiting a field test before we get to call it the MQ-28. Versatile for both recon and combat, equipped with a small machine gun chambered in 5.56.”

 

He demonstrated a compact tablet with a high-resolution display and an intuitive interface. “You can control it using this. The interface is user-friendly; you can pilot the drone, access feeds, and engage targets with a few taps and swipes. It also supports an Xbox controller for finer flying control.”

 

Henry glanced at Ron – now this was something he was familiar with. “I bet the ability to kill something without exposing ourselves is gonna be useful down the line.”

Cole showed them a portable water purification system. “Unknown water sources can be risky. This kit can purify and desalinate water, making it safe to drink. It’s compact enough to fit in your packs.”

 

He then presented a comprehensive multi-tool kit. “For field repairs, adjustments, or any other unexpected needs. It’s got everything from bolt cutters to a digital multi-meter.”

His next item was a stack of rations. “And for sustenance, we’ve got these.” He handed them a plain cardboard box labeled ‘StarBars’. “Developed for astronauts and Space Force personnel like yourself. Nutrient-rich, calorie-dense, long shelf life, what’s not to love?”

Henry’s lips pursed, as if he could taste the so-called ‘food’. He picked up a StarBar, the design almost as bland as the taste. “Let’s hope the local cuisine is more appealing, or we’ll be living off these and dreaming of chili mac MREs.”

 

Ron chuckled. “Maybe we can find a way to make them palatable with some Sonaran spices.”

Henry glanced at Ron. “See? Already on your way to becoming our Gordon Ramsay.”

 

Cole grinned. “Consider them a backup plan. I’ve also included some field chemistry kits for testing substances you might encounter. They’re simple to use and could be crucial for identifying potential hazards or useful materials.”

 

As they finished reviewing the supplies, Cole led the team outside, where two MRAPs were parked side by side, each looking distinct in its setup. “We’ve got a lot of new stuff, so y’all are getting a second MRAP and a M1082 trailer to boot. You’ll have a bit more space for any loot y’all come across in the field.”

 

He pointed to the first MRAP. “Thanks to new requisitions, we’re not gonna have to rely on placeholder gear. The powers that be recognize the reality of the Project and the world on the other side, so your original MRAP has been replaced with an upgraded version. This one’s fitted with an upgraded communication system. It’s a high-frequency radio setup, designed for extended range without SATCOM integration.”

 

“World War 3 type shit, basically,” Ron remaked. 

 

“Yup,” Cole agreed. “Originally intended for a sticks-and-stones scenario with the entire world bombed back to the stone age. One of the geniuses in logistics realized how useful this would be on Gaerra, so here we are. This one can link directly with drones, providing you with real-time data and ensuring communication continuity in Gaerra’s environment. Navigation-wise, we’ve replaced the standard GPS with a system that relies on pre-established data and drone links. It’s more suited to Gaerra, where conventional GPS simply isn’t an option.”

Turning to the second MRAP, Cole highlighted its distinct features. “This MRAP is equipped with a TOW missile system. Given what you’ve faced so far, we thought it prudent to provide you with something capable of taking on heavily armored targets. It does come with a mounted .50 cal for additional firepower.”

 

Ron whistled appreciatively. “That’s some serious hardware.”

 

Isaac walked up to the second MRAP. “You can say that again.”

 

Cole then returned to the first MRAP. “And this one’s been fitted with a Remote Weapon Station. It includes a Mark 19 grenade launcher for versatility in combat scenarios. Should be effective against a range of targets, giving you both offensive and defensive capabilities.”

 

Henry surveyed both vehicles, impressed by the thought put into their customization. The extent of these modifications in just two weeks seemed improbable under normal circumstances. “Two weeks is a tight window for all this,” he remarked.

 

Cole nodded, understanding the unspoken question. “Well, Captain, let’s just say the Manifest Project had a few plans up its sleeve. We’ve had contingency setups and modular systems ready, just waiting for the green light. Anything more than what you see here will have to go through standard R and D, though.”

“Either way, the additional firepower and systems are exactly what we need,” Henry said.

 

“Glad to hear it,” Cole replied. “The M1082 trailer should handle well towed by the MRAPs. Plus, everything’s got enhanced suspension systems – should handle Gaerra’s terrain more effectively.”

 

“Appreciate the thorough setup, Chief,” Henry said.

 

“No problem, Captain Donnager. If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

 

Henry gave a nod of respect to the man before leaving the quartermaster’s. They ventured into the large hangar that housed the gateway, passing by a growing number of workers as dawn gave way to day. Similarly, the disciplined order of the hangar’s exterior gradually transitioned to the focused calm of scientific inquiry as they walked further.

 

The lab was deep within the facility, sheltered in a section close to the main gateway but far enough from it to not detract from the researchers’ concentration. As they entered, the air was filled with the hum of machinery and the scent of ozone, a tang hinting at high-tech research. In the center of it all was a blonde woman, who took her eyes off a complex chromatography setup, analyzing samples presumably collected from Gaerra.

 

Henry stepped forward, breaking the brief silence. “Dr. Lamarr, Alpha Team reporting as directed.” His voice carried a formal edge – a bit too formal.

 

Dr. Lamarr offered a curt nod, her gaze lingering on Henry for a moment too long. “Captain Donnager, good to see you again.” Her words were professional, but the tension was unmistakable, like a note held too long in a song.

 

Ron, leaning against a workbench, caught the exchange and shot Henry a knowing look accompanied by a slight smirk. Henry’s glance back was sharp.

 

Dr. Lamarr smiled, clasping her hands together. “Well, first off, congratulations on becoming adventurers,” she said, hoping to break the awkward silence. “I’ve been in discussions with Director Lombard and General Harding, and they’ve agreed to allow me to issue specific missions to your team. These missions will align with our research objectives here and hopefully help us learn about Gaerra’s unique environment and phenomena.”

 

Lamarr cleared her throat, drawing their attention to a screen displaying an image captured from Henry’s helmet cam. It showed the Guild’s quest board, paused and zoomed in on a specific Tier 6 quest. A smaller window on the top right corner of the screen showed aerial drone footage of a village – a picture-in-picture setup. “I’ve been looking through the Guild’s quests and I found something interesting here. This quest comes from the village of Hardale, situated about 30 miles directly south of Armstrong and adjacent to a trade route through the Mirrowen Forest. They’ve reported an unusual surge in monster attacks – it’s somewhat reminiscent of our initial encounter with the fenwyrms, but with a broader variety of creatures involved.”

 

Henry leaned in, observing the screen intently. “Looks like more than just bad luck,” he remarked.

 

“Precisely,” Lamarr said, pointing to a graph on another monitor. “We’ve been tracking environmental data from our drones. There’s no way to directly measure magical energy yet, but we’ve detected some unusual electromagnetic fluctuations in the area. A proxy for magical activity, maybe. These could be indicative of something… unnatural occurring.”

 

Ron peered over Henry’s shoulder. “So, something like the gateway’s energy attracting the fenwyrms?”

 

“Potentially,” Lamarr replied. “It’s a working theory. These electromagnetic readings don’t fit typical patterns we’ve observed on Earth. If Gaerra’s magic operates as a form of energy, these fluctuations might be the closest thing we have to a ‘mana signature’.”

 

Dr. Anderson considered this. “So we might be looking at an artificially induced hotspot for monster activity?”

 

“That’s the hypothesis,” she confirmed, the pitch in her voice rising along with her excitement for a potential new discovery. “According to the quest posting, Hardale’s looking for help in investigating the cause of these monster attacks. I’d like to see for myself, of course, but I wouldn’t want to slow you down. The quest aligns with our observations and could tell us more about the nature of magic and how it affects the local fauna.”

 

Henry nodded. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

 

“Before you go,” Lamarr said, reaching for a set of boxes on a nearby shelf, “I have some equipment here that can help me understand this phenomena better.” She handed over the boxes to Henry. “I’ve included soil sampling kits and EMF meters. They’re straightforward to use and should provide valuable data on the local environment.”

 

Henry opened one of the boxes, inspecting its contents. He recalled using tools like these during his time on the Moon, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. At the very least, testing for soil samples on an alien planet with life was already a much better alternative to checking moon soil for water ice and helium-3.

 

“And these EMF meters,” Lamarr continued, “though we can’t measure mana directly, any unusual electromagnetic activity could give us indirect clues about magical disturbances.”

 

Ron picked up one of the meters, turning it over in his hands. “Never thought I’d be ghostbusting on an alien planet,” he joked. 

 

Lamarr then handed them a laptop. “Use this for data logging and preliminary analysis. I’ve loaded it with the necessary software. It’s not as advanced as what we have here, but it should be sufficient for fieldwork.”

 

“Appreciate it, Doc,” Henry said, securing the laptop in its protective case. “We’ll make sure to gather as much as we can.”

 

Lamarr gave him a smile. “Stay safe out there.”

 

“Will do,” Henry assured her.

 

He led the team outside, bringing the equipment to their MRAPs. Surprisingly, Ron didn’t say anything about any ‘girlfriends’. If the Joker-esque grin on his face was anything to go by, the man must’ve been too excited to go on his first real quest. Henry exhaled heavily. He never thought he’d be as much a fan of the setting as Ron or Isaac, but he was certainly growing into it.

 

After storing their new gear and taking some time to inspect the new adjustments up-close, Alpha Team boarded their MRAPs. Henry turned to Ron, “Dr. Perdue’s lab is on the other side, right off to the side of the gateway at Armstrong.”

 

Acknowledging Henry’s directions, Ron started the vehicle and drove ahead, joining the line of personnel and equipment awaiting transit to Gaerra. They rolled through, the cold embrace of the portal’s event horizon greeted them – a feeling that Henry was already starting to get used to.

 

The MRAPs emerged on the other side, kicking up dust as they navigated a narrow dirt track leading to a squat, modular building that stood out amidst the rows of tents. Henry hopped out first, leading his team into a sterilization chamber attached to the structure. A fine mist of disinfectant enveloped them, the clinical scent stinging their nostrils. 

 

Passing through the chamber, they emerged behind a series of thick PVC strip curtains into Dr. Perdue’s lab. The interior was a blend of field-ready practicality and advanced research: portable biohazard containers sat alongside high-resolution microscopes, and modular shelving units held an array of samples and scientific instruments. Off to the side sat the entrance to the infirmary and a quarantined ward – a necessary precaution.

 

A lab-coated brunette lady in her mid-thirties stood ahead, hunched over a petri dish. Glancing back, she greeted them. “Alpha Team! I’ll be right with you.” After finishing up her work and washing her hands, she approached them. “Heard you’re heading out on a new mission. Dr. Lamarr filled me in.”

 

Henry nodded. “That’s right, we’re investigating some unusual activity near a village in the plains. Might run into some interesting wildlife.”

 

“Perfect,” Dr. Perdue replied. “I’m keen on getting more biological samples – anything you come across, really. Plants, animals, whatever you find unusual.”

 

Ron leaned against a counter, eyeing a row of specimen jars. “Gonna craft some potions for us, Doc?” 

 

Dr. Perdue cracked a small smile. “Not quite yet, Lieutenant. But these samples could pave a path to that. Here,” she handed them a set of compact sample collection kits. “These are for biological samples. Easy to use, just follow the instructions. And keep them secure; we don’t want any contamination.”

 

Henry took the kits, distributing them among his team. “We’ll make sure to collect what we can. Anything in particular you’re interested in?”

 

“Behavioral patterns, reactions to stimuli, anything out of the ordinary,” Dr. Perdue explained, handing Henry a cooler. “I’ve also heard that ‘monsters’ of higher Tier typically have ‘legendary’ qualities. If you can procure samples from such fauna, those would be invaluable. I’ll even take whole carcasses, if possible.”

 

Isaac raised an eyebrow. “You want pieces of monsters?”

 

“If possible,” Dr. Perdue affirmed. “Tissue samples, blood, scales – whatever you can get. It’s all data. And who knows, there might be some… practical applications. Maybe not right away, but maybe in the near future. Sooner, if we can learn from the Sonarans.”

 

“Understood. We’ll bring back as much as possible.”

 

As they prepared to leave, Dr. Perdue added, “Multiple samples help as well. If there are any extras, I’ll hand them back to you and you’ll be able to sell them.”

 

Stepping out of Dr. Perdue’s lab, Henry could feel the excitement of their new mission. Collecting monster parts wasn’t exactly what he had signed up for, but then again, nothing about this gig was turning out quite as he had expected. Regardless, he wouldn’t complain about the chance to explore an alien planet and conduct some pioneering xenobiology, however fantasy-laden this chance was.

 

“Looks like we’ve just got our first side quests,” Ron remarked, grinning as they walked back to their MRAPs.

 

Henry smiled. He played enough video games to see the parallels. “With ‘research points’ as a reward.”

 

Isaac chimed in as he loaded their new sample kits into the second MRAP. “Bet this wasn’t in the recruitment brochure, huh?”

 

“Recruitment brochures are for the Air Force, not the Space Force,” Henry replied, placing the cooler in the trailer. “Besides, they probably would’ve undersold it.”

 

Dr. Anderson laughed as he hopped inside the second MRAP. “‘To explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, and boldly go where no man has gone before’ – now that’s a recruitment pitch.” He paused his laughter, “Actually, Director Lombard did approach me with something similar.”

 

“Huh,” Ryan said. “We were told it was a matter of national security. High-stakes job in a damn exotic spot. Didn’t sugarcoat it or nothin’. Said our expertise was needed for some ‘unique’ situation.”

 

Isaac nodded. “Yeah, ‘unique’ was the word. ‘Unprecedented opportunity,’ they said. Now, they didn’t use that phrase often so I guessed it’d be something interesting, and looks like I guessed right.”

 

Henry took his seat beside Ron, Dr. Anderson joining them in the back while Isaac and Ryan took the second MRAP. “Alright, let’s head to Eldralore and get this quest officially on the books.”

 

As they neared the main entrance of the base, Ron eased off the accelerator. Up ahead, a handful of base personnel seemed to be talking to a caravan of local merchants, who were attempting to trade. Henry spotted an array of goods – fabrics, fruits, and even combat equipment like swords and potions.

 

“Look at that,” Ron muttered, turning his head to spectate the exchange. “I bet we could get rich selling them spices.”

 

“Certainly,” Dr. Anderson said, adjusting his glasses. “If the talks proceed well, I imagine that we’ll see a trading post spring up around here. I’ve actually recommended the sale of spices to Ambassador Perry – not in high enough volume to disrupt local suppliers, and not impactful enough to shift local culture. Hopefully, we’ll be able to trade for magical artifacts or new alchemical ingredients.”

 

Ron nodded, resuming speed as they passed the checkpoint. “Wonder if the Chief will add any potions to his stock.”

 

“Until then, we’ll have to buy what we need locally,” Henry said, watching the trees pass by.

 

The journey was uneventful, almost sending Henry to sleep. As they pulled into the Guild’s parking lot, Henry yawned and stretched before leading his team inside. 

 

As they walked inside, Mira greeted them. “Ah, Alpha Team!” she said with a bright smile. “Returnin’ for another bout of adventure, are we?”

 

“Yup,” Henry said, “we’re here to register for a Tier 6 quest about monster attacks on a village.”

 

“Aye, the Hardale troubles, that’s the one. Got yer quest scroll right here.” She rummaged briefly before handing over a rolled parchment. “This the right one?”

 

Henry unfurled it, looking through the details. “Yup, that’s the one. Got any new details or updates?”

“The latest from Hardale speaks of a real mixed bag of trouble. They’re facin’ attacks from monsters of all sorts: common goblins, Lesser Treants, Fenwwyrm Spawn. Hardale’s holdin’ on, but there have been reports of hobgoblins, so they’re runnin’ low on time. These attacks… it’s unheard of in these parts. Whatever’s stirrin’ them up, it’s no natural happening. Keep yet wits about ye. This quest could be more than a mere investigation.”

 

“Thanks for the heads up.” He turned to his team. “First official quest as adventurers, let’s check it out.”